


That Which Does Not Kill You

by ashen_key



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Missing Scene, References to Past Medical Experimentation, Regenerated Healing, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashen_key/pseuds/ashen_key
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regeneration is not without its downsides, and Natasha healing from a bullet through the shoulder in a number of hours raises a few important questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Which Does Not Kill You

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to **ladyoflorien** for beta'ing ♥ .

“Whoa, should you even be doing that?” 

Natasha smiled tightly at the note in Sam's voice, but didn't answer until she'd completed the exercise. Correction: she didn't answer until she'd completed the exercise, and then wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her right hand.

“I heal fast,” she said, and winced at how breathless she sounded. “But, uh. No one's worked out how to accelerate healing without needing accelerated PT. So here I am.” 

Sam winced in genuine sympathy, but he kept his voice light. “Yeah, they don't mention that in the action flicks. What can I do to help?”

“Grab me some Gatorade? I have to finish this session.”

“Can do. And, good luck.” 

Her mouth curled into an approximation of a smile. “Thanks.” 

By the time Sam came back, she was sitting on the ground, hands shaking and vision blurred. 

“Hey, hey, Nat, easy.”

Oh.

“Hi, Steve.” 

“I think the idea is to stretch the muscles, not kill yourself,” Steve said, not without humour.

“I know when to stop.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said, “I've known you for about five minutes, and even I'm questioning that.”

Natasha pulled a face at them both, but accepted the offered bottle. She forced herself to drink it slowly, letting the Gatorade do its job. It would be a while before she could even think about getting back to her feet, but in the meantime, thank god for electrolyte-replenishing qualities of Gatorade. 

Steve was sitting next to her, alternating between watching her with worry, and staring off into the distance. Sam seemed to be waiting, but then it wasn't his world that had just exploded in his face.

She was trying not to think, and the pain radiating from her shoulder wasn't nearly distracting enough. She'd been working for, lying for, _killing_ for _Nazis_ -

“So,” Sam said, “you're like him. Ninety-five, and still have all your teeth. That kind of thing?”

“No, she's not exac-”

“I'm eighty-six,” she said, and then raised her eyebrows a little at Steve's expression. “You're still older than me.” 

Sam looked as if he was going to say something, but after glancing at Steve's face, kept his mouth shut. 

Steve was just staring at her.“You could have told me.”

“I...didn't trust you not to play Twenty Questions.” 

“But-”

“You fought these guys before?” Sam interrupted. “Hydra, I mean?”

She felt her mouth twist. “Yeah.” _And I thought we won._

“Natasha,” Steve said, and she turned her head to face him. “You knew him. Bucky. That's why he didn't kill you in Odessa.” 

The nerves in her shoulder continued to make their current damage explicitly known, but that's not why she delayed answering. “Yes,” she said finally. “We were part of the same department for a while. But he's doing his best to kill me now.” 

“Do you...” Steve hesitated, gaze dropping to her left shoulder, then to the floor, and then finally back to her face. “Why doesn't he know me?”

“Because they fucked with our brains,” Natasha said bluntly. “And I'd say something sarcastic about pioneer research into neurology and memory, but first I need to see Dr. Fine for some painkillers.”

Sam was staring at her with a mixture of horror and sympathy; Steve's expression was doing too many things to label, but she could read guilt. She didn't want to deal with either reaction, but she swallowed her temper and one-handedly screwed the lid back on her bottle. 

“You guys gonna help me up?”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered, but if his tone was distracted, his hands were gentle as he helped her to her feet. “I'll...I'll find Dr. Fine for you.”

“Meet me in the computer lab,” she said. He nodded, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then left before saying another word. 

Sam stayed.

“Need to check Facebook?” he asked, arching his eyebrows at her. There was a hint of a smile, but his eyes were serious. 

Just for him letting the revelations of her past slide, she smiled at him. “Someone has to poke around Project Insight's coding. Unless you've got a secret programming habit...”

Sam held up his hands. “I can get AdBlock to work, that's about the extent of it. You have any idea of how to shut it down?”

He didn't need to clarify 'it'.

“Not yet,” she said, carefully pulling her leather jacket back on. “I have a few ideas, but I have to see what Hydra's done first. And see what I can do before they launch.”

Sam didn't say 'I'm sure you will', or even, 'good luck'. He just nodded, one professional to another. “Do you need any reminders about your shoulder?”

Natasha started to say no, then thought about it. “Can't hurt,” she admitted. “I might need to actually use it tomorrow.”

He blinked. “You'll be healed by tomorrow?”

“Mostly, yeah.” She huffed a laugh, the sound barely more than a breath. “Mad Science has its uses.” 

“...yeah,” he said, and she could guess the direction of his thoughts. How many of his comrades, his patients, wouldn't now be racking up medical bills, or dead, if they'd had her treatment? And then, how many of them would've ended up like Banner, like Blonksy, like Barnes? He took in a sharp breath, blinked, and focused back on her. “Every hour sound okay?”

“Sounds good. Check in on Steve, too? He broods.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that impression,” Sam grinned. “I'll, uh, leave you to your Matrix thing.”

“Matrix would be more fun. And,” she added as he turned to go, “Thanks. For helping out.”

“Hey, not every day you get to save the world.” His smile was deeper than his words, and as a way of presenting to the world, she could get behind that. 

Then he was gone, and it was just her in the room. 

Natasha shut her eyes, and leaned back against the wall. She counted to ten, breathing on each beat, and finished with a fervent hope that Dr Fine would let her have some more of his serum-proof drugs. But even if he didn't, she had work to do. 

So she straightened, and walked out to find the computers.


End file.
